A Rogue Walks Into a Bar
by Vortex82
Summary: A Rogue walks into a bar...


Just a little idea about how Remy comes to associate with Xavier's institute, set in the movie universe but discounting the appearance of Gambit in associated films. I'm afraid I think as much of that as I do the fact they sowed up the Merc with a Mouth's mouth lol... Pure fluff and nonsense, I hope it provides diversion for anyone kind enough to read. That you for taking the time to look at my work :)

 **A Rogue Walks Into A Bar**

Remy LeBeau was intrigued; by a woman. It had been a long time since Remy LeBeau had found himself intrigued and longer still since a woman had been at the root of it.

The last time had involved one Ororo Munroe, the very same woman whose offer of lodging he was currently here in this city considering. Any possible sexual involvement with this woman had long since been discounted, though she remained a rare thing to him: a friend. She had asked him to come, and with no better offers and several worse ones he had made the journey. He didn't have many friends and he treasured the ones he claimed such a relationship with, male or female.

Frankly now he was in New York though, his resolve was wavering. To hear her out, maybe take up her offer of some sort of teaching position which was sure to be troublesome, or not? Honestly, the idea of him as a teacher had him snickering. It was downright laughable. He couldn't decide whether to take her seriously, or in deed meet her at all, and felt no pressing need to expedite his decision.

Maybe her offer would bring something exciting, but he couldn't bring himself to hope. Hanging around in the backstreet taverns was keeping him occupied for now. This was why he was currently sat in this bar, procrastinating before the feared disappointment he felt was inevitable.

It was a standard dive, one of a thousand interchangeable, cigar-smoke hazed places he'd frequented in recent years in a hundred cities that were near identical in everything but name. All the same; each with their own grizzled owner and life-hardened barmaids behind the counter and equally predictable clientele. Drunks and dregs and hoodlums; lifelong barflies, wannabe tough guys out to prove themselves and the legitimate tough guys who sat quietly in dark corners sipping their liquor. Loud men itching for a fight or a game of poker and tittering women doused in red paint and perfume with bleached hair.

There was always the occasional oddity; appearing unique at first but soon made mundane by the fact that every bar had one and Remy had long since heard all the stories. Upon closer inspection the piece that didn't seem to fit at first always turned out to be a disappointment. The guy in the tux who'd been left at the altar and just walked into the first place that sold alcohol he could find; the classy lady who was only in a seedy bar to pick up a random man for revenge on a cheating husband; the genteel old duffer who was there for one night drowning his sorrows after his kid's funeral at a childhood haunt that had been so much different back in his younger days.

Whatever the tale, Remy had heard it or something very similar before and now he could hardly find the energy to even ask anymore. He was sure that nothing could break the tedium, that there was nothing left to divert him.

Tonight Remy found the oddity this particular bar had to offer, or rather she walked in right in and announced herself in a way that was silent, granted, but that she couldn't have topped unless she'd run in screaming "Look at me! I'm out of the ordinary!" at the top of her lungs. A pretty little brunette with white stripes in her hair and some impressive curves. He had watched her walk in, along with roughly every other man in the place, from where he was sat playing a hand of poker in a dark corner and raised a brow at how covered up she was. Almost idly he'd decided she would be his company for the evening by pure virtue of the fact she was more interesting at least than any of the others, but only if she was still around after he'd finished with his game. He wasn't so interested in a roll in the hay that he'd end his hand early, though he wouldn't say no either and with that in mind kept half an eye on her.

She hoisted herself up onto a barstool and ordered a beer – nothing too unusual so far – and then a fairly good-looking man had taken the stool next to her. You win some you lose some, Remy had mentally shrugged and turned his eyes back to the cards. Then his attention was ripped back to the bar as the man stood up so violently he knocked his stool over, whatever she had said to him causing his face to scrunch up in disgust before he stormed away and out the door. The girl simply moved to right the stool, climbed back onto her own and went back to her beer as though nothing strange had happened.

And this was when the intrigue had begun. Remy found himself wondering what she could possibly have said. He was sure it would be nothing new to him, but curiosity had taken root. He watched her a little more closely, still mostly involved with his game but now actively splitting his attention between it and her rather than looking up occasionally as an afterthought.

Another man approached and he took a moment to watch her in the mirror. She spoke one sentence he couldn't hear or read as she held her bottle over her lips without looking at the guy or changing expression. This earned a smile and a reassuring hand lain on her shoulder. She said something else and the guy yanked his hand back like she'd suddenly grown red-hot to the touch.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Remy won the hand but delayed leaving the table to watch her a bit longer. She simply continued drinking her beer alone for a while, staring straight ahead, and he found himself wondering what her story was. Maybe it was something new, he barely dared to hope. Probably not, but maybe...

Eventually a third prospective suitor took a seat next to her and things played out almost exactly as with guy #2, smile and reassuring hand to the shoulder and all, right up to her second sentence. This time the guy grinned and leaned in; Remy could see his face and was able to lip-read him say something along the lines of 'that sounds dangerous', but was unable to discern her response. Whatever it was it caused the guy's face to fall almost comically. Without another word he shuffled off with an air of frustrated despondence.

Disgusted, terrified and crestfallen; three very different responses to three different sentences. Remy was now officially intrigued. Yet another guy approached, and this one got as far as sentence two before he too took off in horror. Remy picked up his newly-dealt cards, now just barely more interested in the girl than the game.

Gradually his attention shifted almost fully on to her and he found himself keeping track of her statistics over the next couple of hours. She seemed to attract even more male attention than a pretty girl in this sort of place normally would and he could only assume it was for the same reason he was now watching her; she piqued interest. Half the men who approached her left in disgust after her first words and half of the remainder fled in fear after the second sentence. None of them stayed following her third sentence, all of them leaving with looks of profound disappointment.

That was it, he decided as he picked up what would be his last hand of the night before leaving the table, he just had to know what she was saying.

He managed to scrape a win, far too distracted by the girl, and was about to stand when a delicate hand tipped in bright red nails slithered over his shoulder. He looked up to find a beautiful blonde-framed face gazing back at him and instantly recognised the invitation in her half-lidded eyes. She was probably not nearly as stunning under all the makeup, he knew from experience, and besides the prospect of something new and exciting was far more attractive to him than a superficial beauty that was so easily won.

"Hey handsome, I'm Susie. Calling it a night?" she asked, licking her bright red lips.

He smirked and took her hand, raising the knuckles to his lips before releasing her and climbing fluidly to his feet with enough space between them to indicate a polite, non-verbal declination of her offer. "Not quite yet, petit. But I am leavin' the table if you want my seat."

With that he turned away from her unhappy pout, sauntering off towards the bar and the fascinating brunette with the white streaks without regret. He took the barstool next to her and noted the way her eyes flicked towards him for a moment before focussing again straight ahead.

"I'm a mutant." she said flatly before he could even open his mouth and only the surprise of a Southern twang made up for the disappointment at her words. Being a mutant was nothing new, and a rather mundane explanation for the disgusted responses he'd noted. There were still two more sentences to investigate, though, so all was not lost just yet.

"Me too." he replied, dipping his shades just enough to draw her attention to the red-on-black eyes he hid behind them. She blinked quickly twice but otherwise didn't react and soon cast her gaze front and centre again. He was mildly impressed; even among other mutants his eyes usually garnered at least a gasp.

"My mutation is that I suck the life right out of you through skin-to-skin contact and can leave you in a coma or dead depending how long I hang on for. I'll take your energy, your powers if you're a mutant yourself and a copy of your psyche including your memories and deepest, darkest secrets."

He whistled lightly. Well, that explained the terror. Still, he'd met dangerous mutants before; rare but hardly unique. He was one of them after all. "Mine is blowin' things up." he said with a casual shrug.

She took a gulp of her beer, a mirthless smile playing around the corner of her mouth as she set the half-empty bottle down on the bar top. "One touch and what's yours is mine whether I want it or not. I can't control it."

Shit. And that explained the crestfallen frustration. However, instead of following the several who had gone before him tonight into retreat, and probably only because he knew about them and liked to be different, Remy pursed his lips in thought and remained in his seat. "You know, Chere, there are ways around a restriction like that. Can think of ten or so off the top of my head. Both you and me could come away mutually satiated I've no doubt."

She snorted so hard she spat out her beer. Then she did something unwarranted and completely unfair. She changed the game entirely by turning to face him full on and laughed. Now, this might not sound like much but that laughter was damn near magical and it had Remy entranced. With just the addition of a radiant smile and shaking shoulders her terse, pretty features became beautiful, and it was a kind of beauty with which no clever makeup or any kind of surgery could ever hope to compete. Her green eyes seemed lit by an inner glow and Remy had to force a display of nonchalance when she hit him with that beautiful, guileless expression.

"I can honestly say I've never heard that one before, Cajun, so thanks for breaking up the monotony." she said in a tone that was vastly warmer and damn near caressed his ears. "But whoever said I'd be satisfied with whatever over-the-clothes fumbling you have in mind?"

"Ah, Chere, don't you know I come with satisfaction guaranteed? One night with Remy and you be ruined for all other men."

She laughed again and he silently congratulated himself for provoking the sound even though his ego took a bit of a hit. She laughed the way women should laugh but never did; whole-hearted and honest. Or maybe that was just the women he had known up to now. Whatever, he was struck with the urge to make her laugh again and as often as possible.

"You make a mighty tempting offer, but I'll have to politely decline." she said, her smile turning sad for a beat before she shot him a mischievous look. "I'm afraid it's full on, naked, wild animal sex for me or nothing at all. A gal's gotta have standards you know." she added in such a serious tone but with such an innocent rosy blush that he couldn't help but bark out a laugh of his own. It had been a long time since he'd been so genuinely amused.

"You, Cherie, are truly strange." he said, meaning it as the highest of compliments. He smiled as she inclined her head, thinking it over a moment before apparently taking it as such. "Buy you a drink? No naked, wild animal sex required."

Her laughter rolled over his senses and he found it infectious. "Okay, Cajun, I'll let ya buy me one more for the road, but then I really gotta get going. Old Grumpy's gonna have my hide if I'm too late back."

"'Old Grumpy' your boyfriend?" he asked as casually as possible and was gratified when she snorted derisively.

"Nope. He's... well, he's my... my _friend_ , I guess."

"Friend? Ya don't sound too sure about that description."

"Yeah. He's actually somewhere between pseudo-father, adoptive-big-brother and rabid-Doberman." she said, counting off on her fingers. "'Friend' is just easier to say."

"Ah." he said as he motioned the barman for another beer, even though he should probably be walking back to Susie and her obvious invitation. That would mean walking away from this girl though, and he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. He was pretty sure she wouldn't be joining him in bed later – a position Susie would be happy to fill – but he was actually enjoying her company. "So, you have friends but no boyfriend then?"

"No. No boyfriend." she said, turning a pained expression to her now near-empty bottle before draining its contents in one gulp and moving on to the new one the barman set before her.

"Name's Remy by the way." he said to break the awkward silence that had descended.

"Rogue." she returned, eyeing the hand he held out for a moment before taking it gingerly in her own gloved hand and giving it a hearty shake.

"Rogue? Just Rogue?"

She squinted at him and he fought the urge to squirm under her appraising look. "Yup. Just Rogue. It fits."

"Noted. Some call me Gambit and say it's pretty fitting, but I prefer the ladies call me Remy. At least the pretty ones anyhow."

Another blush bloomed across her cheekbones and Remy's fascination bloomed with it. He was used to knowing titters and sly looks in response to the half-hearted flirtations he tended to throw out without thinking. Bashful innocence had never been attractive to him before but right here and now on her he found it damn near magnetic. A world weary soul from what he could tell, but also an innocent in some ways. A fascinating combination.

"So, Rogue, how come you gracin' this dive with your presence tonight?"

She chocked on her beer. "Did-did you seriously just ask what a nice girl like me's doing in a place like this?" she asked with an incredulous smirk.

He shrugged. "Suppose I did at that. Just cause the question's cliché don't mean I'm not interested in the answer though."

"I'm indulging my inner Logan tonight, he loves joints like this." she said absently, tilting her beer bottle this way and that. He raised a brow in query and she chuckled. "Never mind. I guess I'm takin' a walk on the wild side just for a few hours. Needed to get away and have some alone time for a while before heading back." she said then shot him a sidelong glance. "Maybe get lucky enough to hear something I haven't heard before."

He took in the way she wrinkled her nose and felt a wry smile steal over his lips. "I know that feeling Chere."

She tilted her bottle to salute him. "Sounds like you do at that, Cajun."

He clinked his own glass against her bottle in recognition of a somewhat similar soul as himself. He doubted the similarities ran that deep but even superficially they were enough for him to toast. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed just interacting with another human being, felt like another human being understood him even just a little. "So, you from around here Chere?"

She nearly spat out her mouthful of beer. "Does it sound like I'm from New York to you?"

"No, more like Mississippi unless my ears have gone bad." he grinned. "Been a while since I've been south of the Mason-Dixon, but I hope I haven't forgotten everything. I meant where you're living now. You have the look of a southern belle out of place in the north about you."

"Your ears are good. That's where I'm from, and yes, I'm currently living here in New York." she said and sent him a wicked grin. "Guess I'm just a poor little southern princess out of place, in need of a southern gentleman to rescue her. You gonna take on that role? Become my hero?"

He grinned back. "You don't look like ya need too much rescuing."

"True. I have Logan for that anyhow. Still, might be nice to have my own knight in shining armour just for once." she said wistfully.

Remy shifted, suddenly consumed with the awkward desire to be such a knight. "Would you settle for a thief in a slightly shoddy overcoat?"

She smiled. "Guess so. Long as he's aiming for full on, naked, wild animal sex."

"A girl's got to have standards, after all." he said, quoting her.

Her smile faded. "Yeah. She does."

An oppressive silence descended, during which Rogue swallowed the last of her beer. "Looks like I'm done." she said, turning an infinitely sad smirk on him. Honestly that sort of expression shouldn't be allowed. "I'm heading home. Thanks Cajun, for what it's worth I don't think I'll forget you any time soon. You took away the boredom for a night so at least let me get you your next round in. I'll even buy one for Blondie as a thank you."

Remy blinked in confusion a moment, then realised she meant Susie who was still eying him across the bar like a cat would a bowl of cream. He'd often held an indifferent sort of affection to women like her – he'd never stooped so low as to sleep with someone he disliked – but for the first time he felt active animosity.

"That won't be necessary." he said, voice tinged with an anger he didn't quite understand.

Rogue slid off her barstool, eyes averted. "Okay. Well, have a good night, Remy."

There was something both warm and lost in her tone that called to him. Before he realised what he was doing he was off his own stool and taking her arm as they walked out the door together.

"Er..." she said, her bewilderment endearing, and most important, refreshing.

"A thief in shoddy overcoat would never allow a lady to make her way home at night unescorted." he claimed, grinning as he tucked her hand securely into the crook of his elbow. He ignored the glare Susie levelled on him until the door swung shut and hid her from view.

"Guess not." Rogue said, somewhat in a daze.

"So where we headed, Chere?"

He wasn't expecting the look she turned on him. It was calculating, assessing and way beyond her years. He almost gulped but then she sighed and squeezed his arm.

"Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters." she said and he was struck with a feeling of fortuitous circumstance. That was Ororo's address... suddenly his decision regarding her offer was made and done in his mind.

"If you're using me or planning any sort of assault, I'd advise against it. Others have tried before and come to sticky ends."

He covered her hand with his own. "Chere, you'll understand later but for now I assure you I have no such plans."

"That's good." she said with a relieved expression. "I'd really hate to pick bits of you out the gutters."

He wasn't sure whether she was being serious or not. He remained unsure even when he dropped her off at the gate. The only thing he was sure of at that point was that he would be taking up the teaching position that Ororo had offered, however laughable such a proposition might be.

He waved her off as she left him at the gate to trudge up the driveway and grinned with anticipation. He'd speak to Ororo tomorrow, and hopefully see Rogue again shortly after that.


End file.
